A gram of perspective
From the pages of my Patreon, another melodramatic existential blog about Spurs…
I'm actually all out of perspective. Anyone know any dealers in the London area? They need to deliver. Doordash. I'll buy a gram of it. This is still an analogy, by the way. Can perspective be measured in grams? Probably not, but tell you what, I'd snort a bag of it right now.
See, I'm a touch burnt out. I've tried to fight the good fight throughout the season. I've attempted to do my best in allowing myself room to manoeuvre my loyalties around along with introducing some sacrifices too. It's been a cursed comprise of mind chess. Perhaps one where I've tarnished my own belief system because I'm so unequivocally Tottenham and dislike ye old self-hatred of ones self (this being hating on the club, the team). Check m8 indeed.
I want us to do well, in spite of <insert you know what here>.
I even met some of you half way. That old chestnut about winning something - no matter how we manage to do it; just bloody win, be damned with style. I danced with the devil. I accepted the antithesis of Tottenham. I rationalised it all.
What now?
Firstly, a mental note to ones self; do not podcast or blog straight after a game. Chill out a little. Take in the air from the outside world. Perhaps a hit or two of Dimethyltryptamine. Remove the edge off my corporeal existence. The knee-jerk is often unavoidable if your emotions remain in the oven, cooking in amongst the juices and sprinkled salt and seasoning.
But here's the thing. It doesn't matter how long I wait, my angst remains the same. Slow cooked and deliciously spicy.
We (the mighty fanbase) accept what is dished out to us, but we can choose to react freely to it. Control itself is nothing more than a construct. An illusion. Spurs do Spurs things and we knowingly scratch our chins and nod our heads. We accept it and then we deal with it. As much as some did not want Jose Mourinho, we just got on with it and adjusted. Now, we deal with the consequences. When the dealing of it all started exactly will vary from one supporter to the next.
Yes, often things are said by managers and players alike that get lost in translation. Quotes lose their context whilst others never seek it. But regardless of all the ego-protecting fluff that Mourinho spouts, we know his self-preservation is the ultimate goal he aspires to. He persists with inceptions, so he has reference points to fall back on later. If he stripped all the bullshit away, we're still left with the stench of reality that is shared amongst us. Which is tragically the very same thing he alludes to when he trashes his own players, directly and indirectly.
Spurs are a mess. Our players can't quite connect the dots on the fundamentals and the coach is lost in deflection. But the real test, the real existential question is whether sticking with Mourinho is worth the painful rebuild as opposed to handing responsibility to someone new, to inherit that very same rebuild. Perhaps the challenge is steep regardless whether we stick or twist, but if the difference is marginal, then why not twist and try something different? Mainly because what we have right now is barely identifiable.
Is the issue at boardroom level? Yes, of course it is.
Well, I'm not going to dance to the tune of slagging off ENIC and their ownership. I think that complicates something that ought to be simplistic. That regardless of the mis-management and because of it too, we have still found ourselves in positions to compete. Sometimes we're underachieving when we think we're overachieving.
In addition, I'm no longer clear what the Mourinho objective is/was. We've gone from the frontier to the wild west to a spaghetti western.
Jose might, if he had £200M to spend, buy the right players for us to bore our way to silverware. But many got their wish for a serial winner and the result has given us rotten food for thought to choke on. Perhaps this lust to win something no matter what, is an experiment we can push to one side. Forever. At least when it's executed in the fashion we've endured in recent seasons.
Win something, that old romantic way, 'cause at least then you know you're amongst friends. And who cares about rival fans banging on about their trophy hauls? Cups and titles won by any other football club are REDUNDANT. They do not matter, they have no consequence to belonging to THFC. Here's the thing about trophies; they are only relevant if your club wins them. And if your ethos does not resemble your clubs heritage and tradition, you're ghosting towards a conclusion that has been torn out of a different book and sello-taped into your own.
It would be nice to win something though, right? Is it still nice to win something no matter how we've gone about doing so? Winning still greater than the journey and the moments undertaken to get there?
This season has been so draining and exhausting that it almost doesn't feel like it will matter much if we did stop City from doing the Quad or fluke a finish in the Top 4. It feels tainted, stained.
No doubt on the day, we'll celebrate it and enjoy the positive memes and then the day after, we've back to thinking how the bread and butter of domestic games and form is our very essence of existing. I ain't trying to be a philosophical nonce here. You know that deep down this is true. This is the aforementioned simplicity. What we want is to enjoy living in the moment and what the future brings is beyond our control. Bit of faith and belief fuelled by booze will do just fine.
I guess the Grade A unicorn perspective I want to cut into fat slugs after hot-plating and then snorting up both nostrils is the type that has me grounded back to what I know best; Spectacular, accidental heroes that aspire beyond their means and tease a fairytale before the big bad wolf pack that distorts Financial Fair Play takes a massive bite out of our dreams, spitting it back in our faces as we implode.
Give me proper heartache, the Spurs way.
At least we have Harry Kane. May the cosmos bless him and his tireless genius. Hopefully he goes against what everyone is expecting (in my darker moments, I think it too) that he will leave for easy dubs at a club with automated prestige on tap. Or perhaps he stays and sticks two fingers up at everyone and be damned with the narrative the media demand us to worship.
Anyways...
I needed to say all this. Even if it reads like the mess Spurs are in right now. Ironically, the Prem is also a mental massive mess. The fact we could have gone 4th had we beaten Newcastle proves how ridiculous things are. This blog might not age well. I don't care. It's how I feel right now, having taken a hit or two.
I needed to say that I no longer care about what ifs and the comprise and sacrifice of trying to be something extra, attaining an edge we don't have, playing ugly, whatever. I want to belong to an identity and what will be will be. And those that want more, those that demand the trophies, just remember - we are in this soulless place right now because of that deformed short cut version of desire and ambition.
Be ambitious for sure. We're a club that has to want to be great. But we have to be true to ourselves too, because if we're not, then we're impostors, sell-outs, pretenders. If we're going to fail, let there be an echo.
The perspective we all need is remembering what it means to enjoy football. This season feels like I'm fighting myself, you and every other Spurs fan out there.
I need to rest up man.
Spurs need a reboot.
We all need a gram of perspective.
